


Any which way

by Mirilya



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27512878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirilya/pseuds/Mirilya
Summary: Rome, 41 A.D. - Aziraphale was never one to turn down the opportunity to thwart some demonic wiles, especially if those wiles took place somewhere with a legendary spread of food and drink. However, he wondered if there was something off about the wine, as sweat beaded on his skin.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 58
Collections: TheBottomsUpZineArtandWritingCollection





	Any which way

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Scissor Sisters. Beta'd by Oriiana. Originally included in the Bottoms Up Zine.

Aziraphale was never one to turn down the opportunity to thwart some demonic wiles, _especially_ if those wiles took place somewhere with a legendary spread of food and drink. However, he wondered if there was something off about the wine, as sweat beaded on his skin.

Aziraphale knew he shouldn’t stare, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He always tried not to think too hard about how seeing Crowley made him feel, but now it felt impossible to avoid the thoughts boiling to the surface. Aziraphale tilted his head back, his eyes fluttering closed as he loosened the drape of his toga with shaking fingers.

He imagined mapping every part of Crowley with his hands, tracing his lips over swells and hollows. Licking the salty tang of sweat from Crowley’s skin, the musky-sweet scent of his aroused Effort, the bitter-salt heat of his spend pooling across his tongue. Aziraphale palmed his cock through his tunic, biting his lip to stifle his groan.

Crowley slid onto the couch beside him. “I suppose it was _you_ who swiped my drink earlier.”

Aziraphale’s eyes snapped open. “Ah! H-hello, my dear.” Crowley quirked an eyebrow at his reaction.

“S-someone poisoned it.” Aziraphale glanced at him without turning his head, his voice catching. He knew he should stop, but his fingers skimmed along his length, oblivious to his mental protests.

“Of course." Crowley rolled his eyes. "Hardly a point in organizing clandestine meetings in this city if _no one_ takes offense.” Aziraphale watched a bead of sweat roll down Crowley’s neck with rapt fascination, his hand moving furtively beneath his tunic. “You know it can’t affect us.”

“I- I could hardly just leave it there. If someone else picked it up, I’d practically be responsi- mmh!” Aziraphale unsuccessfully stifled a moan as he bucked up into his hand. Crowley whirled to face him.

His eyes flicked rapidly over Aziraphale’s form, taking in every detail. He swallowed hard. The angel’s face was flushed red, his lips parted, breath coming in rapid pants. “That... wasn't poison.” Crowley muttered, his eyes turning full amber. “Explains why the man who brought me that drink looked so disappointed.”

“I- oh.” Aziraphale swiped his tongue over his lips. 

Crowley cleared his throat, his eyes laser-focused on the glimpse of pink tongue and the shine of saliva on Aziraphale’s plump lips. “Should I leave and, uh. Let you… y'know. Get on with it?”

Aziraphale loosely circled his cock with his fingers, thrusting shallowly up into them. His breath hitched, and the tiny sound threatened to turn Crowley’s legs to jelly. “Won’t you help me?” 

Crowley almost gave in. The idea of Aziraphale spread beneath him, soft and yielding… his fingers itched to touch. But Crowley was a demon, not a monster. He exhaled through his nose, looking Aziraphale directly in the eyes. “You’ve been drugged, Aziraphale.” 

Aziraphale managed to pull his hand away and crawled forward, straddling Crowley’s lap. “It’s awfully warm in here, isn’t it?” Aziraphale peeled his tunic up over his head. His body glowed in the lamplight, pillowy softness layered over powerful muscle. Crowley attempted to form words, opening and closing his mouth to no avail. _Fuck, he’s beautiful._

“I offered you oysters,” Aziraphale continued. “ _Tempted_ you, even.” Aziraphale wiggled his hips, his heavy cock bobbing, leaving a dab of precome against Crowley’s toga. “I want this.” Aziraphale pouted. “Don’t make me beg, Crowley.” 

Aziraphale hummed into the sudden crush of lips against his. Crowley tasted of wine and cinders and honey-sweet lust, and Aziraphale wanted to indulge in the taste of him, to scald his tongue on the sheer heat of him. _And, oh._ Aziraphale desperately wanted to be touched all over, _craved_ it. Aziraphale ground his hips down onto the demon's lap. He could feel Crowley’s generous cock solid against him, and he groaned, aching for it.

“I need your cock,” Aziraphale panted, his breath hot against Crowley’s lips.

Crowley made a strangled noise. “G- S-aargh, you can’t just say that.”

“I can,” Aziraphale unpinned Crowley’s toga, pushing it off his shoulder and onto the ground. “And I will.”

“Haah, okay,” Crowley huffed. "I, uh. Let me-” There was a brief struggle with Crowley’s tunic and Aziraphale huffed, snapping the offending garment away into the ether.

Crowley surged forward, claiming Aziraphale’s mouth once more and pressing him down against the seat. Aziraphale groaned at the feeling of Crowley’s solid weight, bringing his legs up around Crowley’s narrow hips and grinding up against him. “Crowley…” Aziraphale’s voice became a needy whine. "Hurry.”

Something in Crowley snapped and he growled, miracling oil onto his fingers. He stroked a finger along the rim of Aziraphale's entrance, but found it already slick and ready. "Oh, you're already…" Crowley muttered in amazement. Aziraphale keened and his hips twitched forward, aching to be filled. “Hahh, can't wait-”

Crowley lined the head of his cock up against Aziraphale's hole, sinking into him with a single motion. Aziraphale's low groan echoed in the space between their bodies. _Finally._ The stretch was incredible, but just the beginning. 

" _Fuck_ , angel." Crowley began a steady rhythm, rolling his hips down into molten heat.

"Y-yes," Aziraphale moaned. “More.” Aziraphale's eyes rolled back as Crowley thrust into him, the pleasure quickly becoming overwhelming.

"Make me come, Crowley. I’m so close-" Aziraphale babbled, his mind clouded with lust.

Crowley slipped a hand between their bodies, wrapping his slick hand around Aziraphale's cock. Aziraphale thrust up into the tight ring of his fingers and came with a cry, the tingling spreading from his fingers and toes flooding his body with white-hot static. Thick white spurts painted his chest, pooling warm at the hollow of his throat. Crowley kept up his pace, unable to tear his eyes away from the deliciously lewd angel beneath him. With the image burned thoroughly into his mind, he came _hard_ , filling Aziraphale with his spend.

“I’ssat better?” Crowley murmured through his blissed-out haze.

Aziraphale smiled lazily up at Crowley, the fog of lust completely gone from his eyes. “Much, thank you.”

“Nex’ time I’ll drink my own wine, thankss."


End file.
